Silent Raindrops
by Valairy Scot
Summary: One sick, and one worried Jedi, and then the reverse. The fear of loss makes one Jedi realize how much he loves, and how he dares not admit it, for to love and lose will destroy him. Not until the sequel does he realize that denial of love is not the solu


"Master Jinn. Padawan Kenobi."

There was a resigned sigh from the healer at the reception desk in the healer's ward.

"Which one of you needs a bed this time?" It was a rhetorical question, for the large Jedi master, while upright on his own feet, was being supported by the slight body of his young apprentice. The healer didn't know which one to feel most concerned about: Qui-Gon with his drawn and pale face or Obi-Wan with his worrying eyes.

"I'm not –." Qui-Gon started to say, interrupted by, "he's sick," from his padawan.

"One of you is always sick or hurt, and the other worried," the healer said, grabbing a datapad. "Symptoms, etc. – you know the drill by now."

"Weak, coughing, achy," Obi-Wan said helpfully. "Dizzy. Started just after we returned from Ounaura." He was referring to their last mission. They had only returned two days previously, unscathed and unharmed, much to the relief of the healer's ward, who had again braced themselves for the return of Jinn-Kenobi. They were just about to celebrate the absence of the team, and now - here the two were. Predictable.

"Follow me, boys," the healer said dryly, and led them to a room. Indicating that Qui-Gon was to sit, he took his temperature and pulse. "Yes, you're sick," he confirmed. "I see you're prepared – you brought your night clothes. We'll put you in room 10 and you can change into them. You'll have it to yourself – it's kind of quiet around here now. Or was."

He turned to Obi-Wan and peered at him. "You. Padawan – feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," Obi-Wan said. "Is my master just sick or did he catch something nasty?"

"Too soon to say. We'll take a few swabs, run a few tests," the healer responded cheerily. "Probably just something that'll run its course within a few days, but since he's sick enough to show up here, we want to be sure it's nothing that will turn into something more serious. You just returned from Ounaura, right? No nasty bugs there? Nothing toxic in the environment there I'm aware of, and you're both current on all your shots, aren't you?"

All Jedi were given vaccinations, as well as booster shots, against all known diseases that there were vaccines for - no one knew where a Jedi might end up or in what conditions. There wasn't much that could be done to protect one against environmental hazards –parasites and bacterium, or strange foods – but what could be protected against, was.

Sometimes, though, a Jedi came into contact with something previously unknown, or had some reaction to something that no one else did. Bug bites for one. Healer Harold remembered the large, itchy welts that had so tormented Obi-Wan some months back – bugs they had originally thought.

"You didn't bring any unusual plants back with you, did you?" the healer asked, referring to that incident. It had turned out to be an allergic reaction to the sap of some plant that Qui-Gon had brought back from somewhere. They'd had to practically sedate Obi-Wan to keep him from scratching his skin into shreds before they'd traced the skin irritation to its source. The sap had gotten transferred from Qui-Gon's hand to Obi-Wan somehow, probably some teasing touch or hand to hand fighting exercises. Once they'd traced the source of the padawan's intense discomfort, they forced Qui-Gon to discard the plant.

Apparently, Obi-Wan hadn't forgotten that incident either.

The young padawan turned long suffering eyes on his master and said in a most emphatic tone, "He would not dare. It broke his heart to give that plant up – I could see his eyes going between that plant and me and trying to decide what to keep. He was torn between it, and me."

"Now, now padawan, it wasn't that hard a decision," Qui-Gon said quietly. He sighed. "It was a really nice plant, though."

The healer and Obi-Wan exchanged glances, shaking their heads. The Jedi master was probably, of all the living Jedi, the one most attuned to the Living Force and taking something living away from him was like ripping out his heart.

"You hesitated, Master," Obi-Wan accused, hiding a grin. "I thought you were going to ask Master Yoda to find me a new master."

"Brat. You know better." It was said kindly. He placed a gentle hand on his padawan's shoulder and lightly squeezed it. "When I realized no other master would provide you with the proper guidance, I had no choice but to retain you. Padawan mine." The twinkle in Qui-Gon's eyes was pronounced, and Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.

The healer snorted. He had been convinced that the Jedi master had truly been torn between giving up a beautiful flowering plant and his padawan's health. He should have known better, of course. It would take far more than something like that to come between those two – he was quite convinced by now that neither of them would hesitate to sacrifice limb or life for the other.

Neither would admit it, of course. But you could see it – in the worrying eyes of the one watching the other while recovering in the healers ward, in the bantering words they threw at each other, and in the smiles they exchanged. There was an extraordinarily strong bond between the two, even more so than among other Jedi teams.

The healer surfaced from his thoughts to see Qui-Gon staring quizzically at him, a slight smile on his face as if he divined the healer's very thoughts. As the threesome started down the hall, Obi-Wan leading the way, the Jedi master and his apprentice to room 10 and the healer back to the front desk, Qui-Gon leaned over and spoke into the healer's ear, "It really was not a hard decision at all."

Qui-Gon changed and settled into bed, and even before he could do so for himself, Obi-Wan was fluffing up the pillow and tucking it behind Qui-Gon's back.

"Nursemaid," Qui-Gon teased.

"Just making you comfortable, Master," Obi-Wan said earnestly, and his woebegone expression made Qui-Gon roar with a gentle laugh. He put a hand on his apprentice's arm and forced him to stop for a minute and look at him.

"I'm just a little sick, Obi-Wan. You don't have to fuss around like I'm dying. They'll probably run a few tests, say I have to rest and let it work its way out of my system, and I'll be back on my feet in a few days. Now smile…." He waited until a smile bloomed on his apprentice's young face and worked up to his bright blue-gray eyes. He basked in that open smile – it was like a ray of sunshine after a gloomy day, a rainbow after a storm. He always delighted in it.

"That's better, padawan." He reached out, rubbed a thumb along one cheekbone. "Now, I suppose you have some classes to attend. Run along. I'll torment Healer Harold until you're back."

He waited until Obi-Wan gave a grudging assent and left, then let his face explode into a grin. His padawan could be such a worrywart; the boy just hadn't learnt yet to release his emotions into the Force. That calm center that all Jedi strived to achieve was years ahead of him, but he never doubted that Obi-Wan would achieve it. He had no doubts at all that Obi-Wan would be able to achieve anything he was determined to succeed at.

To think he had resisted accepting the boy as his padawan! He had not wanted that close connection to another being ever again, and knew Obi-Wan would somehow wiggle his way into his heart if they teamed up. He had tried to keep a bit of distance between Obi-Wan and himself, for he didn't want a padawan who would be like a son to him.

No, once he healed enough from his previous padawan's betrayal, enough to accept Obi-Wan as his padawan, he was determined to maintain a close teacher-student relationship with him - no more, no less. Despite the rocky bumps along the way, somehow his kind and generous padawan had not only healed his heart, but stolen into it and taken up residence.

It would never do for the apprentice to know he had his master wrapped around his pure soul and bright smile, for knowledge of his power was sure to lead to its corruption. He needed to protect his padawan from that dark future.

When Obi-Wan was knighted, years in the future, of course, he had no doubt he'd be wearing the proudest, happiest grin of his life when he held Obi-Wan's padawan braid in his hand. As much as he would regret not having his padawan constantly by his side, it would be the happiest day of his life. It would be the day he could finally admit to Obi-Wan how deeply he cared for him.

But now was not the time. Obi-Wan needed to be protected from the knowledge of the absolute and total power he carried within him.


End file.
